


Haven

by ddelusionall



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Changmin is Korean, Consensual Underage Sex, Desert, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Micky gives in, Micky tries not to give in, Minor Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Yoochun and Yoohwan are American, set in BFE Arizona middle of nowhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: A strange Korean boy walks into a cafe in the middle of BFE Arizona. He stirs up a rife of trouble and a gaggle of feelings that Micky should know better than to act on.
Relationships: Park Yoochun/Park Yoohwan, Park Yoochun/Shim Changmin, Park Yoochun/Shim Changmin/Park Yoohwan, Shim Changmin/Park Yoohwan
Kudos: 1





	1. Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

**Warning: incest, underage (Changmin is 16 and Ricky is 17; Micky is 20)**

A/N: This fic takes place in the United States, where Ricky and Micky are Americans and don't speak Korean. Oh, and BFE stands for "Butt Fucking Egypt" which is a term that means the middle of nowhere.

Pink and pale orange strips of clouds brightened the gray sky. The vivid neon glow from the flashing OPEN sign faded as the dawn light spread over the desert. The dry weeds in the parking lot blew in a violent gust of wind.

Micky stood behind the counter and watched the sun rise through the windows. Shadows painted the booths in stripes. He held a warm cup of coffee to his hand and checked the clock. 5:58. The sun was rising sooner and sooner every day.

Right on schedule, a dusty blue pickup truck pulled off the paved road and into the dirt that resembled a parking lot.

Micky set his own coffee down behind the counter, shouted at Rafael that the crotchety old Harrison was right on time. Rafael saluted him, head bobbing to music that came out of the earbud in his left ear. Micky poured more coffee into a green mug and Rafael started on hash and eggs.

“Morning, Park,” Harrison rumbled.

Micky smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Harrison.” He set the coffee down just as Harrison sat down, and the routine of his morning started.

At precisely seven, Ricky stumbled into the café, yawning and smiling hello. Again, Micky had a cup of coffee ready, doctored specifically for his younger brother tastes and the two of them, with Rafael, handled the morning rush of farmers in desperate need of coffee and families out for breakfast on a Saturday. Their mother arrived at eleven and the three of them easily handled the lunch rush. At three, too exhausted to eat, Micky left the diner and biked the mile and a half home. He stumbled into their trailer and collapsed on his and Ricky’s bed and slept.

His alarm blared at two. Moaning, Micky tried to roll to the side, and found an arm firmly around his middle. He smiled and reached to shut the alarm off and then rolled over so his face was right next to his brother’s. Micky smiled and watched him sleep. He ran his finger over his cheek. Ricky’s face scrunched in irritation and Micky bit his lip against a smile. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Ricky’s lips, and the muscles in Ricky’s face relaxed and he almost smiled, exhaling softly. Micky wanted to push him to the bed and wake him up with more than a simple kiss, but Ricky rarely slept well, and Micky definitely should not be thinking of his brother that way no matter what the younger one kept hinting at.

Carefully, Micky lifted Ricky’s arm off him and climbed from the bed. He left the bedroom and went down the short hallway to shower and get ready for what he considered his day.

Showered and dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, he left the trailer and headed back to the café. He yawned on his way. The sound of his tires on the road was the only disturbance in the darkness of night. The moon sat midway in the sky, a thin crescent of blinding light.

Micky saw the flashing red neon open sign before he saw anything else. Their main sign, the one with their name, had shorted out months ago, and his mother was trying to get the money saved to have it fixed. It wasn’t cheap.

He couldn’t read the blue letters on the white background until he was almost at the café.

_Oasis Café. A haven in the desert._

Micky did not agree with that proclamation, from his point of view, but it was all he knew. He’d been serving the same customers at this diner since he was old enough to carry a plate without dropping it.

He leaned his bike against the railing of the walkway. He walked up the metal platform and entered the empty café.

Micky smiled at his mother, and it was her turn to hand him a cup of coffee. Black.

“How’s Ricky?”

“Sleeping actually,” he replied. “Or he was when I left.”

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. You both mean so much to me.”

“I know, Mom.” He hugged her and went into the kitchen. He was on cook duty until Rafael showed up at five. He didn’t have much to do. At this time of the morning, it was mainly prep work for the rest of the day. When his mom was here alone, she did the cooking and waitressing.

Micky worried about her sometimes, but back in her youth, she’d been taught martial arts and she still liked to toss the broom around. She once told him that when it came right down to it, everything could be considered and used as a weapon.

But she wasn’t alone long. Alicia, the night cook, went home at one, and he came in at three. She stayed only long enough to make sure the dishes were done and everything was ready for breakfast, and then Micky was left to watch the sunrise again.

But it was only four-thirty when the first customer walked through the door and threw Micky’s entire schedule off. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had come in before Mr. Harrison.

He hurried from the back, the bells on the door tinkling and urging him to hurry.

The person in his café was tall and had his back facing Micky.

“Hello,” Micky said. “Welcome to the Oasis Café.”

He spun around, and Micky tried not to let his surprise show that the other was Asian. There were not a lot of Asians in the middle of the American desert. The boy was really tall, arms and legs too long, gangly and awkward. Micky was sure he was Ricky’s age. Maybe younger. His hair curled over his ears and his face still a bit pudgy with youth. His ears stuck out. He was really cute, and Micky knew he’d be gorgeous and handsome and probably even taller in a few years.

The boy bowed at the waist and said, “Hello. I …” He stopped and bit his lip, and Micky wondered if he spoke English.

“Coffee?” the boy said, making it a question, but it was accented enough that it sounded like “cappe.”

Micky smiled and waved at the counter. “Sure. Have a seat.”

The boy looked warily at the barstools, and then out the window.

“You can sit at a table if you want.”

He looked over at Micky, confused, and Micky smiled and pointed and said, “Table. Sit at the table.”

Comprehension morphed his face into a bright smile and he hurried to the farthest table, back in the corner, eyes on the world outside. Micky stared at him for a little longer. The flashing neon sign painted his skin red and shadowed the obvious curve of his jaw line and neck. Micky cleared his throat, and then turned away.

Micky poured a cup of coffee into a mug and grabbed a small bowl of creamers. He took them both to the young man’s table and smiled at him.

The young man swallowed nervously, so Micky didn’t linger, heading to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast before the crowd came in. He poured a single pancake on the griddle and dropped two eggs next to it. While those cooked for a few seconds, he added a spoonful of hash browns.

In less than five minutes, he had his breakfast.

But on a normal morning, he sat where the young man sat. Instead, he sat at the counter and ate as fast as he could.

When he stood up, he caught the young man staring, and Micky realized he hadn’t even asked if he wanted more than coffee. He was so used to his regular customers just shouting at him.

“Are you going to order something?” he asked.

The boy looked confused again.

Micky sighed and tried to think of an easy way to say it. “Eat. Are you going to eat? Food. Do you want food?” Micky mimed eating.

The boy blushed and shook his head, but then his stomach grumbled loudly in the quiet café.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked.

The boy shook his head again, face scrunching in confusion. He sighed, and then pulled out his wallet and showed Micky that he only had two American dollars. The rest of the money was foreign.

Micky shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. What do you want?”

The other shook his head.

With a sigh, Micky went to the back and thought about what his mom had said about Asian culture. She had been born in South Korea and followed his father here to the U.S. after only knowing him for a month. What a mistake that had been.

Knowing that his mom would be mad for giving the boy free meat, he threw some diced ham and bacon on the grill anyway. He poured two pancakes onto the griddle, and then added some peppers and onions to the meat. After they sizzled, he added the eggs mixture. He flipped the pancakes and then the omelet, cursing when it broke, but he had added a lot of meat into it. Still, he managed to salvage it into a clump of eggs. He had a feeling that the boy wouldn’t know the difference.

Micky plated the food, grabbed butter and syrup for the pancakes, and then went over to the table.

The boy seemed surprised to see him and then his eyes widened when Micky put the food down in front of him. He shook his head rapidly.

“Eat,” Micky said. “Don’t worry about money.”

The boy’s coffee was empty. Micky tapped the cup and said, “More?” while miming pouring coffee.

The boy nodded. “K-k-kamsah-amni-Thank you. Thank you.”

Micky’s eyes widened at the familiar yet foreign word. “Korean? You’re Korean.”

The boy nodded quickly and said something in a language that Micky did not speak.

Micky made a face and said, “I don’t speak Korean. My mom … omma … is Korean.”

The boy nodded in understanding and said something in the foreign language.

Micky blinked and said, “Sure. Now eat.”

The boy wasted no time diving into the omelet. Micky refilled his coffee.

A few minutes later, Rafael showed up, bobbing his head in time to the beat echoing through his headphones. He stopped in surprise and stared at the boy. “Oh wow. There are more Asians in the world than just your family. I had no idea.”

“Shut up, shithead.”

Rafael laughed and poured his own coffee.

An hour later, Micky realized that he hadn’t watched the sunrise through the glass. He’d watched it brighten the boy’s skin, darken the shadow on his jaw, and paint his dark hair with golden highlights.

Micky jumped when Mr. Harrison suddenly demanded to know where his coffee was. Micky hurried to pour it and set it at his normal seat. And his day fell back into pattern. With too many glances at the boy in the corner.

The sun was shining right into the café when the boy suddenly stood up, alarmed and sputtering something in Korean. Micky moved to him quickly. The other patrons in the café had already ordered and he’d only been talking to Mrs. Cornwall.

“What’s wrong?” Micky demanded, grabbing the other’s shoulders.

His eyes were darting everywhere around the small diner and then out the window. Micky looked out the window and saw a black car that definitely didn’t belong in the parking lot full of pickup trucks. An older Asian man in a suit climbed out of the back and stared at the café. Fortunately, the sun was shining directly in the windows, and from experience, Micky knew the man couldn’t see inside. The boy really started panicking. And jabbering in Korean.

“Well, for heaven’s sake, Micky,” Abigail Jones said. “Get the kid out of here. He’s obviously hiding.”

Micky nodded and said, “Come with me.”

The kid was blabbering and didn’t hear or understand him, so Micky grabbed his arm and yanked him back around the counter. He pointed to a corner and said, “Hide.”

The boy’s eyes were wide with fear and Micky rolled his eyes and pushed his shoulders, and finally the kid understood and his knees folded and he curled up on himself in the corner, shaking. Micky put his finger to his lips in what he hoped was a universal sign for the kid to be quiet. The kid nodded.

Micky grabbed a towel and wiped down a counter just as the door opened.

The café went even more silent, and Micky did his best not to roll his eyes. Seriously, was being Asian such a novelty around here?

“Hi,” Micky said, smiling. “Welcome to Café Oasis, can I—”

One of the men held up his hand and cut Micky off. He reached into his suit jacket and Micky saw more than one regular patron shift in his seat. All he retrieved was a piece of paper.

No. A picture.

The man shoved it in Micky’s face and demanded, “You see this boy? Tall. Korean. Pretty boy.”

Micky’s eyes went wide. He was staring at what couldn’t be anything but a school picture of the boy, but back before he was skinny. His hair was cut short around his head and his ears stuck out even more. Round cheeks. Eyes crinkled in a forced smile. Poor kid.

Micky shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him.”

“He not here,” the man said again, lips pursing.

“Nope. Not here.” Micky shook his head again.

“Other people. They see him?”

Micky looked around the café and saw all eyes on him. He cleared his throat. “Any of you guys see some Asian kid around here besides me?”

They shook their heads, some of them spoke. The two men looked around the café.

“Hey, wait,” Rafael suddenly said, and Micky turned to him, his back to the Asian guys. He did his best to not look down at the poor shuddering boy.

“This kid pretty tall?” Rafael asked.

The man turned to his comrade and then nodded. “You see him.”

Rafael shrugged. “I don’t know, man, but at about five-thirty someone walked by the diner. All I could tell was that he was tall.”

“You see him,” the man said again, more urgently.

Rafael held his hands up. “I don’t know who it was, but he was walking and he didn’t stop. It was dark out and all I saw was that he was tall and he was wearing a white shirt.”

“What direction?”

Rafael pointed south. “He was walking that way.”

“He not stop?”

“No, he didn’t stop.”

The first man pulled out another card. “You see him. You call me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rafael said, taking the card and handing it to Micky.

The two men nodded and left the café.

Micky let out a harsh breath and then slugged Rafael in the shoulder. “What the actual fuck, man?”

“Micky, watch your mouth,” Mrs. Jones said.

Micky winced and apologized.

“Hey, shut up, man,” Rafael said. “It got them to leave. Those guys are like some Asian mafia or some shit.”

“Just because they were wearing suits doesn’t automatically make them part of the mafia,” Micky said. He looked out the window and sighed in relief as the black car left the parking lot, going south. He looked down at the card. Foreign language. Weird lines, boxes and circles. Some of it looked like English letters. And some numbers. Micky had a feeling it was an international telephone number.

A whimper pulled his gaze to the kid still cowering under the counter.

“Damn it, I need my mother,” Micky muttered. Louder he told the patrons to get anything they needed from Rafael. He reached out to the boy, and tentatively, he took Micky’s hand and let Micky pull him to his feet.

Micky took him into the back corner, where his mom had nothing more than a chair and a desk and some filing cabinets.

“Stay here,” Micky said, and pointed at the chair.

The boy nodded, and then Micky noticed he was shivering. It had been cold out this morning, and the boy didn’t have a coat. Micky quickly grabbed his sweater and handed it to him.

“Th-thank you,” the boy stammered, and then said it again.

“No problem, kid.”

The boy sat on the chair, curled up with Micky’s sweater. Micky pondered him for a moment and then grabbed Rafael’s hoody and threw it over him as well. The boy smiled at him and Micky’s heart twisted. What had this kid gone through to have him run away? Micky couldn’t wait for his mom to get here and tell him.


	2. Generosity

When Ricky showed up, he already knew about the boy (rumors in a small town spread fast), but he couldn’t remember anymore Korean than Micky could and the boy was asleep anyway, head twisted in an odd angle, long legs pulled around the bottom of this chair, arms loose, but still under the sweaters. Micky checked on him every hour until their mom entered the café.

“Where’s this mysterious boy that has the town buzzing?” she asked. “I’ve had eight phone calls in the last hour.”

“He’s in the back, Ma,” Ricky said. “Sleeping.”

Micky left the lunch prep work he was in the middle of and followed his mom to her corner. The boy was still asleep and Micky carefully shook his shoulder. With a gasp, the kid sat up and looked around wildly before slouching into the seat again.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” Micky’s mom said.

Hello, right. Micky should have remembered that at least.

The boy stood up and bowed and started jabbering, and Micky’s mom talked back. Micky didn’t know anything either said, except the boy saying thank you and bowing completely at the waist. She motioned for the boy to sit again and asked Micky, “Did you feed him?”

“Yeah, earlier.”

“Raphael, make the boy a plate of rice and vegetables!”

“Yes, ma’am. Meat?”

“Some pork!”

Micky pulled out the card the man had given him. She looked at it for a moment, and then sighed.

“What’s going on, Mom?”

“Well, as much as I can understand. His name is Changmin. He left Kingman last night, the man guarding him fell asleep at about eleven. He hitched and hiked this way and stopped here because he was cold.”

“Guarding him? What?”

“Apparently, they’re taking him to a school in California that he doesn’t want to go to. He’s sixteen and was forced here, by a government agency in Korea.” His mom looked down at the card. She read it, and Micky saw the boy wince. “It’s called The Republic of Korea’s Science and Math Academy.”

“Wow. He must be really smart.”

“Yo! Micky!” Rafael said. “Order up.”

Micky rolled his eyes, and went to the kitchen to grab the kid’s meal. Rafael had added a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

“Emotional pussy,” Micky muttered at him as he piled it on a tray.

“Oh, and like you haven’t been making eyes at him since he walked in,” Rafael said, just as quietly.

Micky shrugged. “He’s too young for me.”

“Sixteen is old enough.”

Micky fought the blush and turned around.

Changmin met his eyes and he stopped talking in the middle of sentence, eyes going wide at the food. He tried to stammer thanks again, and his mom waved it away.

“So why did he run away?” Micky asked.

“They forced him here, and forced him everywhere, and the slightest infraction led to beatings.”

“Why are they driving through BFE Arizona?”

Micky’s mom smiled. “The Grand Canyon. They were there yesterday, and they’re driving out to Vegas for a week and then flying to LA.”

“Sucky life.”

Micky’s mom frowned. “Yeah.” She jabbered at Changmin who was once again stuffing his face and then turned to Micky so the kid couldn’t see the worry etched on her face.

“I don’t know what to do, Mick,” she said. “I can’t very well just toss him back out on the street when we know these men are looking for him.”

“If they come back, they’ll find him. No one in this town can keep a secret.”

She nodded. “I know. But … maybe if we make people believe he’s a mafia runaway, like Rafael said earlier, people will shut up about it.”

“No, they won’t. They’ll just gossip more.”

“Some days I hate this town,” she said, and moved past Micky into the dining area.

Micky looked at the kid, who was looking at him, worried. He smiled and said, “Hi. Changmin, right?”

He swallowed and nodded. “Changmin. Shim Changmin.”

Right, backwards names. Micky remembered that, too. He said, “My name is Micky Park.”

“Micky. Park Micky,” Changmin replied and smiled. “Nice met you.”

“Huh? Oh. Meet you. Nice to meet you.”

Changmin nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Micky’s name was shouted from the front and he smiled at Changmin and turned and left the boy where he was sitting. The next time he noticed him, Changmin was in the back with Rafael, washing dishes. Micky glared at Rafael.

Rafael held his hands up, head still bobbing to his music. “Hey, don’t look at me, man. The kid just said, ‘I wash dishes,’ and like I’m going to tell him no.”

Micky shook his head, grabbed the order that was ready and went back to work.

With the lunch rush winding down, Micky’s mom moved in close to him and said, “Take him home with you. Make sure he gets some sleep, okay?”

Micky looked at his mom for a moment, and then sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Why not?”

Micky bit his lower lip and knew this was not the time to tell his mom that he’d probably end up stealing the boy’s innocence if he had the chance. “Then what?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Micky nodded and went to the back where Rafael and Changmin were laughing.

“Micky-shi!” Changmin said and smiled and then scrunched his face in concentration and said, “My home-bo-ee”.

Rafael nodded and slapped Changmin’s shoulder. “That’s right. Homeboy. This kid is brilliant, you know. He never asks the same question twice and never forgets a word I teach him.”

“Fuck. That’s really dangerous.”

“Fuck,” Changmin said. “Bad word. Only with home-bo-ee.”

Micky sighed.

Rafael laughed. “That’s right, Changmin. You only fuck homeboy here.”

“Rafael,” Micky said, voice tight with warning.

Rafael laughed harder, and Changmin looked so confused.

Micky motioned to Changmin and said, “We’re going to go to my home.”

“Home… boy?”

“No, just … Mom! I need your Korean.”

Micky’s mom poked her head around and explained to Changmin that he was going to go home with Micky to sleep and rest.

Changmin wasn’t sure how to react to that, but he bowed and said thank you. They ate a quick sandwich with some leftover French fries before leaving the café. Micky grabbed his jacket and then motioned him to the door. The few patrons still there looked at them curiously, but Micky did not stop. He grabbed his bike and thought about walking home and then decided not to. He showed Changmin the pegs on his back tire, where to put his feet and waited until the gangly boy was steady, hands on his shoulders, and decided that he should have just walked, because now the kid was touching him.

With a shake, he took off and Changmin’s feet slipped and Micky had to stop. It took two more tries before Changmin stayed on the bike and Micky pedaled home as fast as he could. Their house wasn’t big. Just a single-wide trailer that had been there since the 1970s. It wasn’t much, but it’d been his home for seventeen of his twenty years. Ricky had been born in the kitchen only six months after they moved in and their father took off six months after that.

Micky shared the bedroom with his brother. Their mom usually slept on the couch. Micky and Ricky did their best to keep the house clean, and they saved up their money when they needed repairs. Despite all this, Micky was still embarrassed when he led Changmin up the concrete steps and into the living room.

Changmin took off his shoes immediately and lined them up against the wall. Micky watched him and shook his head and headed through the living room. He showed Changmin the bathroom.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Micky asked.

Changmin tilted his head like he did when he was trying to translate something and then smiled and said, “Please. Thank you.”

Micky grabbed a clean towel for him and showed him how to make the water cooperate. Sometimes it stayed cold unless you twisted the handle the right way. He left the kid in the bathroom and with no way of knowing how much time he had, he flung himself on his bed, unbuttoned his jeans, yanked out his cock and stroked off to the thought of him in the shower. He felt like a dirty old man when he was done and licked away the majority of the handful of sticky semen.

The shower suddenly stopped and Micky quickly pulled off his t-shirt and wiped his hand off. He tossed the shirt in the laundry basket and made a mental note to wash them sometime. He went to the kitchen and washed his hands and wiped a wet paper towel over his stomach. He wasn’t as tired as he usually was when he got home and he realized it was because by doing the dishes at the diner, Changmin did half his work.

“Micky-shi!”

Micky jumped and went to the bathroom. The door was open, the air warm and wet. Changmin stood in just his black slacks and Micky’s eyes traveled the length of his sinewy body before he could stop himself. His observation did not go unnoticed by the too-smart-for-his-own-good kid and the boy was blushing.

“Um, I …” He turned away and mimed brushing his teeth.

Micky nodded. “A toothbrush.”

“Yes. I forgot.”

Micky wasn’t sure if he meant he forgot the word or forgot his own, but shrugged. He crouched in front of the counter, only now realizing that he hadn’t buttoned his jeans back up and they slipped over his ass and he blushed. How did that look to the boy, coming down the hall without a shirt and his jeans undone? Micky found a toothbrush buried in with a bunch of other things. Luckily, it was still in its packaging. He stood up and handed Changmin the toothbrush and then brushed by him without meeting his eyes. Out of the bathroom, he shucked off his pants and went to the bedroom to put on sweatpants. As soon as they were on, he saw the flaw in this plan that was half hard and very visible, even with boxers on.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and then remembered the little phrase of fucking homeboys. He moaned and put his face in his hands. “Double fuck.”

“Micky-shi?”

Micky lifted his head. The kid stood nervously by the door and licked his lips.

“Are you tired?” Micky asked.

“Huh?”

“Tired? Sleep?” Micky tilted his head and shut his eyes in what he hoped was a universal sign for sleeping.

The boy nodded. “Sleep.” He said a word in Korean.

Micky sighed and stood up, trying to ignore what had been half hard and was now getting harder because the kid hadn’t put on his shirt, and his hair was lying in wet waves on his cheek. Micky pointed to the bed and said, “Sleep.”

Changmin grabbed his arm, eyes slightly wide and Micky tried to read his eyes and couldn’t. Changmin pulled him back into the room and pointed to the bed, and Micky’s already pesky erection twitched. Changmin wanted him to sleep with him?

Changmin pushed him toward the bed and then turned around to leave the room, and Micky stood frozen for a moment and then said, “Oh no way,” and snagged Changmin’s arm and did the same thing.

“You will sleep on the bed. I am going to sleep on the couch.”

Changmin shook his head.

Micky shut his eyes for a moment and then said. “I sleep on couch.”

“No, on bed. Your house. I sleep on couch.”

“You’re my guest. You sleep in the bed.”

Changmin shook his head roughly and a water droplet hit Micky’s shoulder.

Micky sighed and then said, “Too bad. My house. You sleep in the bed.”

“No.” Changmin stopped and huffed and then grabbed Micky’s arm and dragged him to the bed. “We sleep in bed.”

Micky tried to pull away, but the scrawny kid was stronger than he looked and Micky ended up being flung on the bed. Part of him wondered why he was even protesting, it’s what he wanted anyway. The bed was a queen, and Micky was used to sharing it with someone. No problem, right?

Except Micky was a traveler. That’s what Ricky called him. He moved around so much in his sleep that he always ended up either off the side of the bed, or more frequently, curled up around his brother.

With a sigh, Micky nodded and stood up, only long enough to shut the door and make sure the heavy blanket over the window was secure. It wasn’t pretty but it dimmed the afternoon light enough that Micky could sleep. He crawled into the bed and pulled Ricky’s pillow under his head. He rolled on his side, back facing Changmin and tried to will his traitorous body to relax.

“Micky-shi?”

“Yeah, Changmin?”

“Thank you.” A shaking hand settled on his shoulder and Micky flinched, but did not move away from it.

It took a long time for Micky to fall asleep, and when his alarm went off at 2 a.m., he found himself pressed between two warm bodies instead of just one, his arm around Changmin’s waist and his brother’s warm breath on his neck. Not the best way to wake up, considering the circumstances. Ricky moaned and rolled to the side far enough to slap the alarm off, and then half asleep, he curled back up against Micky.

Micky held his breath.

Changmin moved and Micky shut his eyes at the teasing pressure of his hip against his erection.

“Wake up, Micky-shi?” Changmin whispered.

Micky shook his head and finally breathed.

“Alarm? You wake up.”

“God, just ten minutes. Fuck.”

“Fuck with home-bo-ee.”

“Not next to me, please,” Ricky muttered.

Micky elbowed his brother in the ribs. “Shut up, and stop gossiping about me with Rafael.”

Ricky chuckled, low and deep, still full of sleep.

Changmin looked confused. “Micky-shi? Wake up?”

Micky sighed, nodded and said, “Okay. Wake up.”

“Mom told me to tell you to let Changmin call you hyung,” Ricky said and yawned.

“What does that mean?”

“Older brother, or something. She said it’ll make him feel better.”

Micky looked at Changmin, whose face was concentrating on their conversation. “Hyung.”

Changmin’s eyes widened. “Hyung?”

Micky nodded and patted his chest. “Hyung.”

Changmin’s lips spread in the widest smile and his eyes crinkled and went mismatched and he said, “Micky-hyung” and then flung his arms around Micky’s shoulders and pushed them back into the bed, on top of Ricky, who protested mightily and dug his fingers into Micky’s sensitive ribs and Changmin caught on to the abuse and they tortured Micky until he couldn’t breathe and had to gasp for mercy.

“Sorry, bro,” Ricky said and reached next to him for the drawer.

Micky knew he was going for his inhaler, but he grabbed his arm and said, “It’s okay. I don’t need it.”

Changmin’s smile had dimmed in concern.

Ricky grabbed the inhaler anyway and said, “Micky has asthma.”

Changmin nodded in understanding and said, “Mianhamnida, Micky-hyung.”

“Huh?” they both said.

“Sorry,” Changmin said in English and then said it in Korean again.

Ricky repeated after him, but Micky didn’t. Not until Changmin pouted at him and with a smile, Micky repeated the phrase.

“Wake up now,” Changmin said and climbed out of the bed and left the room. The door to the bathroom shut.

Micky sighed and leaned back against Ricky’s stomach. His brother was not wearing a shirt and his skin smelled like body wash and sleep.

“You okay, bro?” Ricky asked, fingers carding through his hair.

Micky nodded, eyes shutting from the attention. Ricky’s fingers went down to his ear and then along his neck. Micky’s breathing slowed and he kept control of his libido. Really, they only had each other. That made it okay, right?

Micky knew he was deluding himself.

“This new kid has you all hot and bothered, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Lucky brat.”

The fingers returned to his hair and instead of caressing, they pulled. Micky swallowed and kept his eyes shut, but still arched into each tug. His brother was growing more daring and touchier. Ricky hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost a year now, and Micky could barely remember the last time he had one. It hadn’t lasted very long. Besides quick mutual hand or blow jobs with Rafael in the early morning hours, Micky’s sex life was non-existent. He didn’t have time. The person he was closest to was the one that was now trailing the fingers of his other hand down Micky’s bare chest.

“Ricky, don’t,” Micky said, voice low and just above a whisper.

“Why not?” Ricky demanded and twisted his nipple.

The toilet flushed.

“Reason one,” Micky said with a quiet moan.

Ricky snorted. “Which won’t be here very long.”

Micky wanted to say that Ricky didn’t know that, but didn’t. “Don’t, Ricky.”

Ricky huffed in frustration, twisted Micky’s head around and pressed their lips together. So fast, so brief, and then flung Micky away from him. He pushed at his shoulders. Micky took advantage of the chance and bounded off the bed. He needed a shower, a quick wank and to put some distance between him and his brother.

He almost collided with Changmin in the hallway. A still-only-wearing-pants Changmin.

Changmin smiled and said, “What …” He bit his lower lip, thinking. “Work. Yes. Work now?”

Micky nodded. “Yeah, I have to go to work now.”

“I go work with Micky.”

“Changmin, no.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Micky said and pushed Changmin toward the bedroom. “Sleep.”

“Not tired. Work.”

Micky shook his head. “Whatever.” He hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door and locked it. He leaned against the door, breathing deeply and belatedly tried to memorize the feel of his brother’s hands on his skin. And the kiss had been so quick. Not their first kiss, or maybe it should have been since Ricky’s intentions were less than brotherly. But there had been more than one of those in the past few months. None as demanding, and definitely more cautious. His brother wanted him, and Micky was going to have a hard time saying no. He groaned, slipped his hand into his sweat pants and jerked off before getting in the shower.


	3. Curiosity

Changmin absolutely insisted that he go to the diner with Micky, and Micky didn’t think he’d be able to deny the adorable kid anything. So with only a few minutes to spare, Micky got on his bike and Changmin climbed on the pegs and Micky pedaled off to work. His mom seemed surprised to see Changmin, but the two of them sat at the counter and chatted over a cup of coffee while Micky went to the back and tried to ignore the sounds of his voice.

Before she left, Micky’s mom came in the back. “I don’t like this situation at all. I think I’m going to make a really expensive phone call to a friend in Korea and see if he can figure out more information on this school. Changmin says he never actually went there, but the officials had come to his high school to talk to him three different times. Ultimately, it was his parents’ decision. Changmin was already at a prestigious high school, and his family is pretty wealthy. I don’t understand why they nabbed him.”

“Do you want something to eat before you leave?”

“No, thank you. Changmin is probably hungry though. He eats more than Ricky.”

Micky smiled. “I think he eats more than both of us put together.”

His mom frowned. “You two should eat more.”

Micky’s smile fell and he looked away. He and Ricky didn’t eat a lot on purpose. The food they ate was counted as waste in the diner’s books, but it still cost his mom money.

“And you two should worry less,” she said and kissed his cheek. “We’re doing just fine, Mick.”

“I know, but—”

“No. You are not going to go work somewhere else to get more money. I’d have to hire someone and—“

“I know, Mom.”

His mom sighed. “We’re doing just fine. Now go get that boy some breakfast.”

Micky nodded and blinked back tears. His mom worked too hard, every day, every week, without a break. She really needed a break.

“Hyung?” Changmin said.

Micky wiped his eyes before turning around and smiling at Changmin. “Hey, Changmin. Wanna learn to make an omelet?”

Changmin smiled in response, not understanding.

\---

The tension between him and Ricky during the morning rush of customers was obvious. To Micky at least, but no one else seemed to notice. With the sudden appearance of someone desirable, Ricky went on the offensive, making passes and stealing kisses from Micky at the most inopportune moments. If that wasn’t bad enough, he was doing the same to Changmin, though with less intensity. Changmin got kisses on the cheek and touches on the arm and smiles. Micky got slammed into the back wall, his soul sucked out his mouth and Ricky’s hand grabbing at his cock. Rafael almost caught them twice.

In the middle of the lunch rush, Micky’s mom’s cell phone rang. She glanced at it, and then said, “Micky, cover. Please.”

Micky looked around the mostly full diner and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

Rafael put up a bunch of plates and called an order ready. Micky told him to hang on, and then saw Changmin in the back.

“Changmin!”

Changmin turned around, and Micky put him to work, pointing who the food went to and Changmin listened, observed and learned how to be a waiter in less than ten minutes, smiling and bowing his head to the old women who cooed over the tall, adorable boy.

“Raphael-hyung! Mr. Sampson needs soup!” Changmin shouted from the front of the diner.

“What kind?”

“Noodles and—!”

“Chicken Noodle,” Mr. Sampson said.

“Chicken Noodle!” Changmin shouted.

“Coming up!”

Micky tried not to laugh. The kid caught on quick.

Micky’s mom was on the phone for almost an hour. She returned subdued and gave Micky a look that he couldn’t quite interpret. She went in the back. Changmin was wiping down tables, Ricky was taking an order and Micky was finishing up a transaction at the register. When he was done, Micky glanced around the café, made sure that everything was under control and went in the back.

His mom was at the desk, her head in her hands.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“Changmin was kidnapped,” she said, whispering. “This school doesn’t exist. The guys that took him are part of the mafia.”

“Wow. Rafael was right.”

“The guy I called, Jung Yunho, says that it’s one of the biggest news stories in Korea right now. Changmin’s parents are really wealthy, so there’s a huge reward and the entire police force is looking for the kid. He’s been gone for almost a month, and people are starting to think he’s dead, since there haven’t been any demands for ransom. They had no idea that Changmin had been taken out of the country.”

“So what’s the mafia’s real intention?” Micky asked.

“Yunho doesn’t know. He said he’d contact the police and they’d contact me. I’m waiting for a phone call.”

“Micky-hyung!”

Micky left and went to help Changmin write down an order.

At three, Changmin was exhausted, so instead of making him hang on to the bike, they walked. Micky didn’t know what to say to him, or if he should say anything about the information his mom found out. Someone from the Seoul national police, Changmin’s father and Jung Yunho were going to be there in two days to pick Changmin up.

Changmin staggered through the house when they arrived (though he still automatically took off his shoes). Micky followed his example and left them lined up by the door. Changmin face-planted on the bed. Micky chuckled and went to his dresser. His sweats were too short for Changmin to wear, but the boy hadn’t changed his clothes and slept in the ones he’d shown up in. Micky tossed the sweats on the bed, told Changmin to change and went to the bathroom for a quick shower. He was too tired to wank and too confused to even wonder about the images that would accompany his hand on his cock.

Changmin was asleep when Micky came back to the bedroom. With a smile, Micky moved quietly and gathered Changmin’s clothes up. He tossed them into the washer that was already mostly full and started the cycle. Ricky would throw them in the dryer when he got home. Micky went back to the bedroom. He climbed into bed and propped his head on his hand. His other hand ran up and down Changmin’s back. The boy shifted but didn’t wake up, so Micky kept doing it until his eyes wouldn’t stay open. He slid a bit closer, knowing he’d be completely pressed against him when Ricky came to bed, and tried to sleep.

Micky didn’t usually wake up when Ricky came to bed. But Ricky didn’t usually slide his fingers over his hip and tug his dick around either.

“Ricky, fuck.”

“Can I?” Lips pressed against his neck.

Micky moaned and tried to move and pressed himself against Changmin. “Stop it. Please.”

“No.”

“He’s leaving in two days, then we’ll talk about this okay?”

“Don’t want to talk,” Ricky said with a strong pull.

Micky bit his lip against another moan and tried not to thrust back into his brother.

Changmin grumbled and turned to his side, and Ricky’s hand left Micky’s erection just before Changmin’s eyes opened.

“Wake up?” Changmin muttered.

Micky shook his head. “Not yet.”

Changmin nodded and his eyes shut, mouth in an adorable pout.

“Kiss him,” Ricky whispered.

Micky held his breath but didn’t move. Ricky reached around him and trailed fingers over Changmin’s face. His face scrunched up and his lips parted. Ricky ran his thumb over his lower lip and once again, pulled his hand away as Changmin’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hyung?” he said.

Micky tried to smile and swallow and breathe.

Changmin did smile and rolled to his side, buried his face in Micky’s neck. His arms were too long and he ended up pulling Ricky closer to Micky and hugging them both. Micky’s breath whooshed out of him and almost unconsciously he pressed a kiss to Changmin’s bare shoulder.

Changmin lifted his head, eyes still half-lidded from sleep.

Micky licked his lips, and Changmin watched the movement and licked his own and Micky succumbed with a breathless moan and pressed his lips against Changmin’s.

Changmin froze, but didn’t stop him. After the initial press of lips, Changmin tilted his head and kissed him back.

A wet tongue ran over Micky’s ear and his brother’s erection pressed against his ass. “So hot,” Ricky whispered.

Micky jerked away from Changmin and the boy frowned, and then noticed that Ricky was awake and he blushed and Ricky touched his cheek with a smile. He pushed up and leaned over Micky and gave Changmin a kiss.

“Ricky, you’re confusing him.”

“And you,” Ricky said, turned his head and kissed Micky.

Changmin inhaled sharply and Micky felt him pull away, but Ricky’s arm was around him, holding him tightly. Ricky forced the kiss deeper, and Micky wondered when he’d completely lost control of himself or if he really had control to begin with. His arm lifted and tangled in Ricky’s hair. Their heads tilted and their tongues fought with the other in desperation.

A slightly shaking hand ran over his side and Micky finally yanked himself away from his brother’s mouth.

“Hyungs?” Changmin whispered, head tilted.

Micky shook his head. “Sorry, Changmin.” With a small smile, Micky repeated, “Mianhey, dongsaeng.”

Changmin smiled and then it fell and he said something in Korean that neither of them understood. With a huff, Changmin continued babbling, but his hand went to Ricky, fingers tangling in his hair, and then he pulled, and Ricky yelped from the pain but did not protest when Changmin kissed him, just like Ricky had kissed Micky.

“This is such a bad idea,” Micky said even as his hand ran up and down Ricky’s bare back.

Ricky smirked into the next press of lips from Changmin. “He’ll be gone in two days. Better enjoy him while he’s here.”

“And you?”

Ricky pulled away from Changmin and licked his lips. “I’m not going anywhere and you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy me.”

Micky shut his eyes. Ricky kissed him and then Changmin kissed him and Micky gave in to the inevitable. Two mouths fought for his kisses, and he wondered what Changmin was thinking. Hell, he wondered what Ricky was thinking.

Micky hadn’t realized his hand was on his brother’s back until Ricky shifted and it slipped down, to the top of his sweats.

“Take them off,” Ricky growled.

“No,” Micky said.

Ricky sat on his knees and crossed his arms. Changmin continued kissing Micky’s neck, but his eyes were on his brother.

“This is too much, too soon, and I’m still fucking exhausted.”

“Bad word,” Changmin muttered.

“You’re being a pussy,” Ricky said.

“Bad word,” Changmin repeated.

“Shut up,” Ricky snapped.

Changmin’s head shot up and he bit his lip and looked away.

“Don’t yell at him. He’s learning.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck home-bo-ee.”

Ricky smirked. “That is the best idea of the day.”

“No,” Micky said firmly.

Ricky dropped and put his hands on Micky’s chest. Leaning down, lips close to Micky’s, he said, “Suck homeboy off.”

“Ricky, don’t. This is …”

“Changmin.”

“What?”

“Do you want to suck on Micky’s dick?”

Changmin tilted his head and didn’t answer, trying to figure out what Ricky had said.

Ricky’s smirk stretched and before Micky could stop him, he sat back up and yanked the front of his sweats down and his erection bobbed free.

“Ricky!”

Micky tried to grab his pants, but Ricky leaned back and kept pulling and the two of them ended up toppling off the bed with Micky on top of him and his sweats at his ankles, ass in the air. Ricky kissed his shoulder and ran his hands down Micky’s back and squeezed his ass.

“Ricky, fuck,” Micky whispered and rocked his hips on Ricky’s body.

Another hand touched his ass and Micky’s eyes shut.

“Let me suck you off,” Ricky whispered. “Changmin can help me. Let me show him how it’s done. You know you want to.”

Micky shivered and with a whimper climbed back up on the bed. Ricky pulled his sweats off and he was naked, lying next to Changmin. Changmin smiled and bit his lip for a moment before leaning over and kissing him. Micky moaned into his mouth.

Ricky’s hands ran up and down his legs and then firm fingers gripped his dick, pulling another moan from Micky.

“Changmin,” Ricky said.

Changmin looked down, face a bit worried, but his eyes were excited.

“This is sucking cock.” And Ricky opened his mouth and Micky held his breath and then whimpered when lips closed around his shaft and Ricky sucked lightly and then lowered his head. Micky’s hand went to his brother’s hair and yanked softly. His other hand found Changmin’s and he squeezed with each wave of pleasure. He moaned when Ricky released his dick and it smacked into his stomach.

“You want to suck on Micky’s cock?” Ricky asked.

Changmin licked his lips and nodded. He moved, curling his body down.

Ricky lifted his dick and Changmin’s tongue touched the head and the boy licked at him for a moment, before doing what Ricky had done and opening his mouth and putting at least half of Micky into his throat. Ricky shifted back and licked at Micky’s balls.

“Fuck,” Micky whimpered. His fingers were tangled in both of their hair, pulling the most on Ricky’s.

“Good job?” Changmin asked, turning his head a bit to look at Micky

Ricky took over sucking and Micky nodded frantically. “Yes, good. God, so fucking good.”

Changmin smiled and kissed him briefly before going back to suck on the tip of his dick. Ricky slid his hand up and down his shaft and tugged on his balls. Micky moaned, head titled back and tried to thrust into their ministrations. It was insane and wrong and so intense. And it’d been so long since he hadn’t had to stroke himself. He was ready to come too quick and he was vaguely aware of Ricky murmuring instructions to Changmin, about watching his teeth and sucking only lightly and how to curl his hand around the shaft, and before Micky knew it, it was only Changmin at his dick, following all the instructions and twisting his hand just perfectly on the upstroke. His eyes opened and he watched as his dick disappeared between those too-young lips.

Ricky’s face was in front of his in the next moment, smiling and Micky yanked him down for a deep kiss. Ricky’s fingers found and twisted Micky’s nipples. The sensations boiled together, yanking pleasure from his core, twisting and throwing him in the air, holding him captive. And then Changmin tried to take too much and Micky’s cock thrust into the back of his throat and Changmin gagged and Micky froze, mouth open, ignoring Ricky’s tongue as it ran around his lips.

“Come in his mouth,” Ricky said, voice deep. “Give him his first load.”

Micky moaned and he really did mean to pull Changmin away, but just the thought was enough to have him exploding and he shook, vision going gray and spotty while he came in Changmin’s mouth. The boy gagged and coughed and Micky’s dick fell out of his mouth and weak pulses of come spluttered on his stomach.

Ricky moved away and the sounds of messy kissing filled Micky’s head. He pried an eye open and watched as Ricky ate at Changmin’s mouth. His hand was between them and he pushed them back until Changmin fell to the bed and Ricky climbed over him. He lowered his hips and took both of their erections in his hand and stroked them off. Changmin whimpered into the kiss, fingers digging into Ricky’s ass. In what felt like moments, Changmin was coming. He broke away from Ricky’s lips and his body went taut. His cry staggered, his voice broke and he cut off with harsh whimper before shooting white strands all over his chest.

Ricky scooped up the come and stroked himself. He went back to Changmin’s mouth to kiss him and Micky moved closer, body still thrumming from pleasure. He turned his brother’s head enough to kiss them both and Ricky whimpered.

“Touch me, Micky, please. God, please. I want you to touch me.”

Micky knew better, he did, but the time to stop had past and he reached down and took over, sliding his hand over Ricky’s come-covered cock. Ricky moaned and pushed himself up. His hands went to his knees squeezing, and Micky licked his lips. His brother’s dick was longer than his, lucky bastard. Micky took a deep breath and leaned down. He kept his hand on the shaft but licked at the crown.

Ricky cried out, hands tangling in Micky’s hair. He pulled and thrust forward and Micky let go of his erection and let his brother fuck his face. He gagged on a few of the deeper thrusts and his lips started hurting, but Ricky was panting, his cock pulsing and Micky knew he was almost done.

“Suck cock is fun,” Changmin said.

Ricky half-laughed and half-moaned. He nodded. “Sucking cock is fun.”

Micky smiled and rolled his eyes up, met his brother’s lust-filled gaze and then concentrated on sucking on him. After only four more deep trips into his throat, Ricky’s cock jerked and he moaned. Micky did not want a mouthful of come, so he pulled off, despite Ricky’s protest and stroked his brother roughly. Ricky pulled his hair and Micky followed the tug and their mouths met in a rough, dirty kiss and then Ricky was coming, pulsing his release all over Micky’s hip and Changmin’s stomach.

The two of them collapsed and it took a few minutes to calm down, with lust still raging through Micky’s body.

“Fuck,” Ricky said.

“That is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Micky said.

Ricky snorted and told him to fuck off.

Micky sighed and then smiled when Changmin kissed him.

“Homeboy okay?”

Micky laughed. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Ricky pulled the blanket around them all and flung it over them. “Now sleep, since you won’t let me fuck you.”

Micky sighed again. Was he really going to let his brother fuck him?

Despite his fantasies when he was in the shower, it really wasn’t a good idea. The reality of it was sobering.


	4. Sexy

Micky flung an arm over his head and tried to relax. Changmin easily fell asleep, and Micky could feel his brother’s eyes on him until the other curled around Changmin, his back to Micky.

After another hour, Micky knew he wasn’t going back to sleep. He slipped out of the bed and went to the bathroom. Trying to ignore his reflection, he started the shower. His hands were shaking. He turned the water on as cold as he could stand it and then climbed in and stood under the spray with his head and face pummeled by the water.

Which is probably why he didn’t know he was no longer alone until the curtain was ripped to the side and a blast of colder air hit his body followed by warm skin pressed against his back. He yanked his head back and sputtered water from his face, trying to clear his eyes.

“Cold,” Changmin said and reached around him to adjust the water temperature. His other hand easily settled around Micky’s waist.

“Changmin,” Micky said, blinking rapidly.

Changmin smiled and nodded in satisfaction when the water warmed. He put both arms around Micky’s shoulders and pulled their bodies together. Micky stood frozen and then very slowly put his arms around Changmin’s waist. He leaned against his shoulder.

“Mistake?” Changmin asked, voice barely loud enough over the shower.

Micky smiled and shook his head. “No. Not a mistake.”

Changmin pulled his head back and looked at him. “No mistake?”

“No. Good idea.”

Changmin smiled and then leaned forward and Micky didn’t stop their lips from meeting. The kiss was brief and then Changmin smirked and turned them around and Micky was no longer in the spray of the shower. Changmin tilted his head back to wet his hair completely, and Micky was transfixed by the rivulets of water sliding down his chest. He reached up and touched under Changmin’s collarbone, disrupting the trail. His fingers followed the water, and Changmin shivered under the touch.

“Hyung,” Changmin gasped.

Micky smiled up at him and cupped his growing erection. Changmin’s eyes shut and he moaned, hips jerking forward. Micky leaned into him and kissed him. Changmin moaned, and again his arms went around Micky’s body. Micky stroked him slowly, kissing him to the same teasing rhythm. Their lips parted when Changmin’s knee buckled, and Micky quickly tightened his hold around his waist.

Micky smiled at Changmin’s dazed expression. “I wish I could talk to you and have you understand everything I say,” Micky said.

Changmin smiled and bit his lip. “I understand.”

“Not everything.”

With a pout, Changmin nodded. “Not everything. But … this. You … okay?”

Micky tilted his head and said, “You’re young.”

“Rafael say old enough.”

Micky snorted. “He is such a bitch.”

Changmin frowned and tilted his head, thinking. “You love Ricky.”

Micky sighed, nodded and leaned against the cool shower wall. He shut his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“Comp … comp …”

Micky smiled and said it again, “Complicated. Um, what is that word you taught us earlier? Oreo-way-o.”

Changmin laughed and repeated the word for ‘difficult’ properly in Korean. It wasn’t quite the word Micky wanted, but it was close.

“Yeah, that,” Micky said and stole a kiss.

“Sex?” Changmin asked.

Micky wasn’t sure what he was asking. “What?”

“You make sex with Ricky? Yes? No?”

Micky took a really deep breath. “No.”

“Never?”

Micky shrugged. He reached over Changmin’s shoulder and grabbed the shampoo. Changmin didn’t say anything else, and Micky was grateful. He filled his palm with the cheap stuff and then put his hands on Changmin’s head and scrubbed. Changmin smiled and shut his eyes. Micky scratched at his scalp and then rubbed down his neck. There was enough soap on his hands to do his own hair too, since Changmin’s hair wasn’t that long. Changmin ducked under the spray while Micky washed his hair, and didn’t protest when Changmin wrapped his arms around him while he leaned into him to rinse off.

Changmin’s hands ran up and down Micky’s body and he shivered, cock twitching against Changmin’s hip.

“Sex with me?” Changmin whispered.

Micky looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Have you ever had sex?”

Changmin bit his lower lip and then after a moment of translation, he shook his head. “No sex, but … I want sex with you.”

“Oh god,” Micky whispered and rubbed himself against Changmin’s body, debating. It would be really easy, really quick too, but … he did not want Changmin’s first sexual experience to be in the shower. But if they went to the bedroom, then Ricky would … Micky shivered. Sex in the shower was a better idea than that moral dilemma.

“Please, Micky,” Changmin whispered and kissed below his ear.

Micky shivered and then reached down to grab the conditioner. He stepped away from Changmin, trying to ignore the flush in his skin that was not due to the hot water. He turned around, poured too much conditioner into his hand and then dropped the bottle. He ran the slippery substance on his fingers and reached around his hip. He leaned against the wall, propped up on his arm and pressed his fingers against his entrance, moaning at the slide against sensitive skin. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this in the shower, but it was the first time, he had an audience. Cock hardening, he pumped that finger in and out of his body. Shaking hands settled on his ass and spread him open. He panted, slowing enough to press in a second finger.

A firm grip around his wrist stopped him and he whimpered. Changmin pulled his hand away. The whimper turned to an immediate groan when Changmin’s fingers slipped over his clenching entrance. A single finger pushed into him, going deeper than Micky could reach. He moaned and took his cock in his hand, stroking slowly as Changmin explored and played. Another finger joined the first and pumped in and out of him. Micky did his best not to thrust back.

“Okay?” Changmin whispered.

Micky nodded frantically. “One more finger, Minnie. Just one more.”

Both fingers left him and Micky moaned in disappointment, but understood when the cap of the conditioner was opened. He spread his legs as far as he could go and angled his upper body a bit. Three fingers stretched him further and Micky cried out, hand speeding up on his cock as Changmin pumped faster.

“Spread them,” Micky whispered and tried to show him through the lust running through him.

Changmin understood, smart little sex genius, and spread his fingers, curled them and Micky whined as they ran over his prostate.

“Now, now, now, now, now, now,” Micky panted.

Changmin stopped.

“Fuck me. Cock inside me. Come on.”

The fingers left and Micky whimpered until he felt Changmin’s erection swipe up and down his entrance. Micky tried to hold still and Changmin’s hand tightened on his ass, squeezing. The head of his erection settled against him and Micky fought the urge to thrust back. Carefully, too carefully, Changmin pressed into him, fingers guiding his way.

Micky practically screamed. It’d been way too many years, way too many since the last time someone had been inside him. His body stretched, but it stung and he shut his eyes and involuntary tears mixed with the water droplets on his face.

Changmin moaned behind him and pulled out.

“No, no, Min, come on. Inside me.” Micky’s hand was flying over his erection now, body clamping on nothing.

“Tight,” Changmin whispered.

“Oh, god, I know.”

With a shaky breath, Changmin pushed into him again, and this time, Micky thrust back, taking him in as far as the boy could go, and Micky whimpered. Much, much too long. He pulled forward and then back and Changmin gasped and both hands gripped his hips and he started thrusting. Micky secured himself against the shower wall and sped up the strokes on his hand. Changmin was panting already, noises of disbelief and pleasure. Shaking and twitching.

Micky’s hand flew on his cock, steady with a twist at the end, just … like … and then he pictured his brother. His brother’s lips around his cock while Changmin fucked him from behind and he was screaming, shooting his release against the shower wall. Changmin gasped behind him and his body froze. Micky yanked himself away, despite Changmin’s whimper of disbelief, and heavy splatters of warmth splashed over Micky’s ass and thighs.

Micky shut his eyes and smiled, trying to recover against the wall.

Changmin ran his hands over Micky’s ass and then moved to the side and water cascaded on Micky’s body and cleaned him off. The water was going cold. Shivering, Micky turned around, draped his arms around Changmin’s neck and kissed him deeply.

“Okay?” Micky whispered.

Changmin nodded, eyes still a bit dazed from the sex.

Micky chuckled. “Come on, let’s get clean.” Micky grabbed the bar of soap, and quickly washed both of their bodies. The water was almost freezing when they finished, and both of them were shivering when they climbed out.

“Bed?” Changmin whispered.

Micky nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go try to sleep a bit more.”

“Work?”

“In a few hours.”

Changmin smiled and pressed a kiss to Micky’s cheek. “I like it. I like work and you and your house and Ricky.”

Micky smiled and led the way back into the room. Ricky was curled up with the entire blanket, eyes half lidded. He glared at Micky, but Changmin didn’t notice and laughed and climbed into bed with him and said, “Ricky! I fuck homeboy.”

“Yeah, so I heard,” Ricky said.

Micky blushed and quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

“I fuck Ricky now?”

“No,” Micky said. “Sleep now.”

Ricky made a face at him. “What if I want him to fuck me?”

“Do it later.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to listen to us, like I had to listen to you?”

“Rick, come on. This is …”

“Fuck you,” Ricky said.

Changmin frowned at the brothers, but then Ricky turned in his arms and started kissing him. Micky sighed and knew that even with the orgasm from Changmin, he probably wouldn’t sleep now. His lower body ached. He climbed into bed and listened to them make out for a little while. He smiled when Changmin yawned.

And then Ricky was next to him, one arm around his neck and the other along his back. His hand dipped into Micky’s sweats and fingers found his cleft. Micky bit his lip against a reprimand, and even though it was a bad idea, his leg fell forward, giving Ricky access. Ricky’s finger ran up and down, over his entrance, and Micky shut his eyes and did not beg, no he did not. But he whimpered, and Ricky’s finger left for a moment, came back slick with spit and pressed into him.

Micky moaned. “Fuck, Ricky.”

Ricky chuckled and sucked a hicky onto his shoulder. Micky pushed back on his finger, and then it was gone. Micky moaned in protest.

“You’re the one that said we had to sleep,” Ricky said, both arms wrapping around him.

Micky took a deep breath of control and nodded.

“Just remember, though,” Ricky whispered, lips against Micky’s ear. “Changmin won’t be here forever and we’re home alone a lot. I am going to fuck you one day and you’re going to beg me for it.”

Micky moaned, hips rolling back to feel Ricky’s erection. He didn’t protest or refute it, because he knew it was true.

\---

Micky limped into the diner at three in the morning.

His mom frowned. “You okay?” she asked, handing him a cup of black coffee.

Micky fought his blush and said, “Yeah. Just slept funny. I took a couple Advil for the soreness.”

“And why are you so happy?” she asked Changmin and repeated it in Korean.

Changmin laughed and said something back, and Micky was glad the kid was smart enough not to tell their mom that they had sex in the shower. Just like the morning before, the two of them sat at the counter and talked, and Micky went in the back to make them all breakfast.

An hour later, when his mom left, Changmin came into the back and wrapped his arms around Micky. His normally bright and smiling face was subdued. Micky ran his hands over Changmin’s back and didn’t protest when their lips met.

“What’s wrong?” Micky asked.

Changmin made a face. “I leave. Tomorrow.”

Micky nodded. “Your dad is coming.”

“I know, but …” He looked around the diner and sighed and went over to the prep table.

Micky didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and the two of them got ready for the morning rush of customers. When Rafael came in, Changmin bounded over to him and declared, “Rafael! I fuck homeboy!”

Micky blushed scarlet and Rafael laughed, flung an arm around Changmin’s shoulders and proceeded to pull details from Changmin, since Micky refused.

“In the shower? You came on his ass? Blow jobs with Ricky?”

And when Changmin wasn’t in earshot, Rafael said to him, “Disgusting, pedo, incest-loving pervert.”

“Shut up,” Micky muttered.

Rafael laughed and slapped his shoulder.

The day passed in a blur. The normal patrons absolutely adored Changmin, and they had one of their busiest days, since the day before the town had done nothing but talked about the cute Asian boy. Micky heard a few patrons wonder if Changmin was their brother, and the gossip grew more and more creative after that.

When their shift ended, Micky led Changmin back to his house. Ricky had given them a lewd look and Micky knew it was inevitable, especially since Changmin was practically bouncing when they entered the living room. Micky didn’t even try to protest and let Changmin fuck him in the shower again, and in the bed, with his knees under his body and face plastered into the pillow to soak up his screams.

When Ricky climbed into bed with them, Micky didn’t even bother to refuse his kisses or his touches or his mouth. He still refused to let Ricky fuck him, but didn’t try to stop them all from sucking each other off again.

\---

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Micky’s mom asked him the next morning when he winced and shifted on the barstool.

“Yes,” Micky said, trying not to remember Changmin bending him over the bathroom sink to fuck him again. They didn’t say anything to each other, but they both knew that Changmin would be leaving that day.

“I spoke with Jung Yunho about three hours ago. They landed in Los Angeles and caught a flight to Las Vegas. They’re driving from there and they’ll be here at about nine or ten. If I’m not here, call me.”

Micky nodded. “Okay, Omma.” He smiled cutely at her and she laughed and ruffled his hair.

The morning slipped by just like it had the day before, with customers coming in with the chance to talk to Changmin. Micky blamed himself, for not paying attention, for looking at nothing but Changmin’s smiling face.

When that smile fell and the diner went silent, Micky knew something was wrong. He turned around and found himself face to face with the end of a black gun.


	5. Scary

“You lied,” the Asian man said.

Micky swallowed, and Changmin spluttered something in Korean. When he tried to move in front of Micky, Micky held him back, keeping his body between the gun and Changmin.

“You can’t have him,” Micky said.

The man smirked and said something in Korean and Changmin talked back, fast, though his voice was wavering. He grabbed Micky’s shoulder when the man shouted back, and Changmin shouted back, his voice broken and full of disbelief.

The man smirked. “Move,” the man said to Micky. “We take him with us.”

“No way in fucking hell,” Micky said.

The other man lifted his gun and pointed it at Ricky. “I shoot him.”

And then there five patrons, on their feet, their own guns drawn, though these guns weren’t sleek black automatics. Most were only ever used to shoot at vermin that came too close to their house. Another gun entered Micky’s field of vision, from over his shoulder, and he knew that Rafael was holding it.

“I think it’s time you left,” said Abigail Jones from behind her shiny silver Colt.

The men looked at each other, and the moment stretched. Micky’s breath shortened, and he wondered if he’d have time to go to the back for the inhaler that was there before everything exploded.

“You better put your guns down,” Mr. Cranston said and pulled back the hammer on his gun.

Slowly, the men lowered their weapons.

Micky inhaled deeply and leaned against Changmin.

They did not holster their guns, but backed toward the door. One said something to Changmin. and they left. Mr. Cranston and Mrs. Jones followed them out, guns still drawn.

No one said anything or moved until they were in the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Micky sagged into the counter and shut his eyes.

Changmin babbled apologies in Korean and English. Micky let himself be hugged by him and then Ricky was there. Micky flung his arms around Ricky and hugged him tightly. When the man had turned his gun to Ricky … Micky didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he pulled the trigger.

“Fuck,” Micky said, and no one bothered to tell him to watch his mouth.

“What did they say?” Ricky asked Changmin.

Changmin frowned and then whispered, “They … my father. They … my father died.”

Micky looked up quickly, and Changmin’s eyes were full of tears. “They killed your father?”

Changmin nodded. “And the police men.”

Micky cupped Changmin’s cheeks. He wanted to kiss the frown away, but he was still very aware of their audience and his brother pressed against him. “Hey, we don’t know that. They probably lied to get you to go with them. Let’s wait, and my mother will call again and make sure they’re okay. They’re okay. Just wait.”

Micky didn’t know if he was lying or if Changmin even understood, but the boy took a deep breath and his face cleared and he didn’t cry.

“Let’s get you some tea and wait for my mom, okay?”

“Bro,” Ricky said, eyes widening in alarm. “Mom. Those guys … they went south.”

Micky cursed loudly.

“Micky,” Abigail Jones said.

“My mom, she’s alone and they went that direction.”

Mr. Zabriski and Mr. Allenfield stood up and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll go make sure your mom is okay.”

“Thank you,” Ricky said.

“Rafael! Where’s my omelet?” someone shouted.

Rafael snorted. “All right, all right. It’s coming.”

Micky took a deep breath and Ricky wiped his eyes.

“Mom’s tough,” Ricky said. “She’ll be okay.”

Ricky and Changmin went back to work, but Micky couldn’t concentrate. He wouldn’t be able to until he knew his mom was okay. Ricky sent him worried looks and Changmin tried to smile at him. Considering that the boy was just told his father was dead, he was doing okay.

Mr. Zabriski pulled into the parking lot and Micky’s mom climbed out of his truck. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then noticed a deep red mark on her face, and she was limping a little. He burst out of the diner, followed closely by Ricky.

“Mom!” they both shouted.

She smiled and winced. “I’m okay, boys. Remember when I said anything can be used as a weapon? They weren’t expecting me to throw a chair at them.”

“What … where? Huh?”

She smiled again and laughed. “Come on, guys. I’m a former black belt in Tae Kwon Do. They didn’t stand a chance, and there were only two of them. John helped me tie them up and now they’re just waiting for the South Korean detectives to get here.”

Micky frowned. “They told Changmin that they found them and killed them.”

Her eyes went wide and she pulled out her cell phone. She hit a few buttons and put it up to her ear. After a few seconds she sighed in relief and talked in Korean for a few seconds. She hung up. “They’re fine, and Yunho says they’ll be here in less than an hour.”

Micky nodded. “Good. Will you go tell Changmin, he’s freaking out?”

Their mom smiled, gave them both a hug and limped into the diner, Mr. Zabriski followed her.

Micky exhaled deeply and said, “I need a fucking cigarette.”

Ricky frowned. “You promised me you wouldn’t smoke anymore.”

“I know, I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t need one.”

“I’ll let you suck on something else if you need a way to release some stress.”

Micky’s cock twitched. “Ricky, fuck.”

Ricky smiled and held out his hand, and Micky figured that after what just happened, he could hold his brother’s hand for a little while. Their fingers entwined and Micky let Ricky lead him back into the diner.

A little over a half an hour later, another strange car pulled into the lot. This one was bright blue sedan with four doors, and a Nevada license plate. The door opened and Changmin’s face lit up in the brightest smile and he rushed out of the café yelling, “Ah-bo-ji!”

“That means father in Korean,” their mom explained to the patrons.

They nodded in understanding and watched as Changmin hugged the man who hugged him back just as tightly. Three other men climbed out of the car, and Micky’s mom smiled widely.

“Jung Yunho,” she whispered. “Never thought I’d see him again.”

“Who is he, Ma?’ Ricky asked.

“Just an old friend,” she replied and went outside. This Jung Yunho person waited about three seconds before sweeping her into a hug and kissing her cheek.

“Old friend, my ass,” Micky muttered.

Ricky chuckled. “Let her be happy for a moment.”

The other two men in the car were pretty attractive, and they started talking to Changmin, but Micky’s mom turned to them and ushered them all toward the café.

“Rafael,” she said, “Meat and eggs and stuff, and Ricky, get them some coffee. Micky. come here.”

Micky took a deep breath and headed over to them. She introduced him in Korean and then in English. “This is Jung Yunho,” she said and then pointed to the other two. “That’s Kim Jaejoong and Kim Junsu, detectives assigned to Changmin’s case. They do not speak English.”

“Homeboy!” Changmin said. “My father.”

Micky looked at all of them and then was more than happy to return their bows because he had no idea what to say. Kim Jaejoong was prettier than he had been in the parking lot, with soft features but steel eyes and lips pursed in a line. Kim Junsu smiled happily at him and even tried to thank him for something that he didn’t understand.

They sat in a booth and Micky’s mom said she’d be right back. She met Micky’s eyes, and her own were so happy and she was smiling despite the bruise on her cheek.

“He’s incredibly handsome, Mrs. Park,” Rafael said, no tact whatsoever.

She rolled her eyes, but then gushed, “Oh my god, I know. He’s just as handsome as he was when we were eighteen.”

“Am I going to have to threaten him?” Micky said and put his fist in his hand.

“Don’t you dare embarrass me.”

“He’d embarrass himself trying to do it in Korean,” Ricky said.

Micky stuck his tongue out at him.

“What about those mafia men?” Ricky asked.

“Kim Jaejoong said to just let them stay there while they ate breakfast. There’s a bunch of paperwork and phone calls they need to make.”

“Order up,” Rafael said suddenly.

All three of them went to the table with the food, but Micky didn’t stick around. He went to the back to calm himself down. He put his face in his hands and breathed, trying to will away a panic or an asthma attack.

“Bro?” Ricky said quietly and put his hand on Micky’s shoulder.

Micky shuddered, but said, “It’s good to hear her laugh.”

Ricky snorted. “Her eyes are like hearts right now.”

Micky pushed up. “We should have realized this man was going to end up being an old boyfriend.”

“She deserves to be happy.”

“I know, but …”

Ricky sighed. “I think we’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Probably.”

Ricky stepped closer and Micky sighed. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist and buried his face into his stomach. Ricky ran his hands through his hair, and Micky fought a shiver. They stayed like that until Rafael let loose a warning whistle and Ricky jumped back just as their mom came to find them and pulled them both out to at least try to talk to the Korean men.

\---

They stayed the night in a hotel, taking Changmin with them. They left for Las Vegas the very next morning, stopping at the café for breakfast. Micky barely got to say goodbye to Changmin, with only a hug and kiss on the cheek.

Micky was distracted at work, and at home, he couldn’t sleep, unless Ricky sucked an orgasm from him. Micky still refused to go further, and even if Micky knew he was frustrated, Ricky didn’t push.

“Mick,” his mom said two days later. The lunch rush was over and Ricky was out bussing tables and chatting with Mrs. Jones.

The tone of her voice meant it was something serious and Micky was too tired for serious. But he sat on the edge of her desk and waited. There was a piece of paper in her hand and she smoothed it out and then showed it to him.

A receipt. From the bank. Their bank account. There were too many zeros for Micky to comprehend.

“There was a reward out for Changmin. His father transferred this before they left, even though I told him not to worry about it.”

“Fuck, Mom.”

“I know.”

“So …”

“I don’t know. I’m asking you.”

They could move into an actual house. They could renovate and expand the diner. They could hire people to work for them. They could move, get out of this place. There was enough money in their account that they wouldn’t have to work ever again if they were smart with it.

“Fuck, Mom.”

She nodded and put her head in her hands. After a few minutes of silence, she said, “Yunho wants me to go back to Korea. Just for a visit.”

“You really like him?”

“Yeah. I followed your father with ideals and images of the U.S. that weren’t true. Yunho told me not to go, to stay and … I should have stayed, but at the same time, if I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have my boys, and I love both you and Ricky, you know that, but …”

“I know, Mom. But … Ricky and I … we aren’t Korean. Well …”

“I know you’re not, but you’re both old enough to take care of things if I want to go visit him.”

“Yeah. We’re both old enough to live on our own, too. We’ve stayed for you.”

“And now we don’t have to stay.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Los Angeles.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Big city. The beach.”

“Half-naked girls on the beach?”

Micky snorted, and figured that now was as good a time as any, and said, “Not exactly interested in women, Mom.”

She made a face. “I know.”

Which was a surprise to Micky, but at least she wasn’t freaking out about it.

“You definitely can’t come to Korea then. They aren’t too kind to homos.”

“Well, thanks.”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Although, with the way Changmin was looking at you, there’d be at least one person in Korea that wouldn’t mind.”

Micky smiled, but didn’t spill his secrets this time.

His mom took a deep breath. “Well, I’ll talk to Ricky about it and then we’ll see.”

“You know he’s going to want to leave.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe I can talk him into finishing high school and going to college.”

“What about me?”

His mom smiled and stood up. “You’re all grown up, Mick,” she said and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You can make your own choices. Your brother is still just seventeen. Go on home. I’ll talk to Ricky and then, well, I’ll call the electrician and get our sign fixed.”

Micky smiled and nodded. He grabbed a quick sandwich and headed home, thinking about what it felt like to be suddenly rich. He didn’t feel any different. The thought of leaving this small town and getting out in the word was exhilarating, but scary. He’d never been anywhere else, except Las Vegas once, with all his friends when he’d just turned eighteen.

It’d be interesting to live in the city. Or to live anywhere else.

Micky got ready for bed on auto-pilot. His brain was too focused on dollar signs to care if he really did wash his body in the shower or rinse off his toothbrush or pull on proper sleep clothes. He lay in bed, watching the room darken as the day faded to night. He was still awake when Ricky came home at about nine.

Ricky took a shower and started a load of laundry before coming into the room.

“Hey,” Micky whispered.

Ricky smiled at him and slipped down to boxers. He climbed into bed and went right into Micky’s arms, snuggling under his chin. Micky didn’t mind and put his arms around his shoulders.

“So, we’re rich now,” Ricky said.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Crazy.”

“Yeah.”

Ricky turned his head up and Micky leaned down to press their lips together. Ricky hummed in appreciation and licked Micky’s lips.

“Mom is already talking about moving. She’s called the electric company and a realtor to sell the diner.”

Micky tilted his head back to the pillow, looking at the ceiling again, thinking about that. It was hard to think about that. This was … his home. He’d never thought of it as his home before. He’d only ever thought of being there for his mom, being there for Ricky. Here or somewhere else; he still could be supportive. They were his home. His life. This little hovel and this town didn’t mean as much to him as they did.

“She wants me to go to college.”

Micky nodded. “You should.”

“What about you?”

“I’m thinking about it. I don’t know. I just … this …” He smiled down at his brother, tangled his hands in his hair and pulled their lips together again. “Suddenly, having sex with you isn’t the most terrifying decision I’ll have to make in my life.”

Ricky smirked at him, pushed him to the bed and climbed over him, straddling his lap.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going—”

Ricky cut him off with a kiss and Micky moaned. His hands fell to Ricky’s hips and Ricky ground down and Micky ground up and Ricky fell over him and their arms and legs tangled together, mouths and tongues connected. Micky broke away with a gasp.

Ricky pushed his head back and attacked his neck.

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Micky said. “So … “

“Hot.” Ricky breathed against his neck.

“Reckless.”

“Intense.” Teeth bit down on his earlobe.

“Insane.”

“Come on, Micky. I want you.” His hips rocked against Micky’s body.

Micky moaned, “I know, fuck, I know, but ... but …”

Ricky pulled their bodies together, hands slipping into the back of Micky’s sweats. They were both hard, they both wanted it.

Ricky tugged on Micky’s bottom lip with his teeth while rolling his hips against Micky’s crotch. “But what?”

“Brothers and … just … you’re young, and god, so … fuck.” He shut his eyes, head tilted back and connected his body to Ricky’s hips, undulating in the same rhythm, the same horizontal dance.

“But you want to.”

Micky nodded.

“Tell me.”

Micky groaned. “I want to. I want you.”

“What, bro?,” Ricky all but growled. “What do you want me to do?”

Micky pulled Ricky up to his lips for another tongue lashing kiss. “Fuck me,” he demanded into Ricky’s mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

Ricky shivered and yanked himself away. He pulled the blanket off of them and flung it to the floor. He had Micky’s sweatpants to his knees before Micky could stop him.

“Ricky, hang on.”

“No. No way,” Ricky said, peeling the fabric off his legs. “You want me, you’re going to have me before you change your mind.” He climbed off the bed and shucked his boxers to the floor. Only his upper body twisted as he rummaged in the drawer for their bottle of lube.

Micky smiled and put his hands behind his head again. “Come and kiss me, dork. I won’t change my mind.”

“I’m not willing to risk that.” Ricky climbed onto the bed, grabbed Micky’s knees and pulled his legs apart.

Micky laughed and spread them, eyes shutting in bliss as Ricky ran his hands up and down his inner thighs. His hand moved under his leg and pushed up and Micky raised it. Ricky’s eyes were wide and he licked his lips. He shuffled forward enough that Micky could rest his leg on his shoulder. His other leg lifted, settled on Ricky’s thigh and his hips rolled up, shifting and giving his brother access to his body.

With shaking hands, Ricky poured lube onto his fingers. “This is kind of stupid,” he said, fingers slipping down the curve of Micky’s ass to his entrance.

Micky nodded, inhaling sharply as Ricky pressed in a slick finger. “Really, really stupid.”

Ricky slowly pumped the finger in and out of Micky’s body, eyes on the task, licking his lips.

“And I’m not fucking fragile, bro,” Micky said and nudged him with his leg. “Give me another.”

Ricky’s gaze flicked up to his brother’s, and Micky smiled before moaning when a second finger pushed into him. He rolled his hips down, egging Ricky on, and Ricky obliged, pumping his fingers faster, and spinning them, stretching him open.

“It’s a shame you never had the chance to fuck Changmin,” Ricky said.

Micky grunted. “Kid had a nice cock. I don’t regret letting him fuck me.”

“Mom said something about you going to Korea with her to see him.”

“Maybe, but god, Ricky, why the fuck are you talking about Changmin, and Mom, when you have two fingers in my ass?” Micky moaned as his body stretched to accommodate another.

“Three fingers,” Ricky said with a smirk.

“Fuck.”

“And I don’t know. Do you want to go see Changmin? I know you like him.”

“And I knew that he was only going to be here for a short time. Are you looking for a love confession, bro?”

“That’d be nice.”

Micky rolled his eyes and said, “Of course, I love you, now fuck me.”

Ricky smiled and leaned down enough to press their lips together.

Micky smiled. “I love you,” he whispered.

Ricky swallowed and nodded. “You, too, bro. Last chance to tell me no.”

With a sigh, Micky shook his head. “This is stupid and crazy and probably illegal for more than one reason, but there isn’t anything I want more. Fuck me.”

Ricky nodded and pushed back up. He slowly pulled his fingers out of Micky’s pulsating channel, and Micky took deep breaths to calm his breathing. He tensed up when the head of Ricky’s cock rested against his clenching body, and then moaned as he was breached. Ricky fell over him, his knees hooking at Ricky’s elbows. Their mouths met in a messy kiss and Ricky’s hips moved slowly.

Micky moaned and in the next breath gasped, “I love you.”

Ricky shuddered and demanded a deeper kiss. He thrust a bit faster and then bit down and cried out, body shaking through his orgasm.

Micky smiled, fingers running lightly up and down his back. His brother didn’t stop moving, slow thrusts while his breathing steadied.

“Sorry,” Ricky muttered, cheeks pink.

“Hmm, I’m not,” Micky said. “Slicker, nice and stretched, and I know you’re not done yet. Stay inside me, stay hard and fuck me again.”

Ricky whimpered and kissed him.

Micky smiled into the kiss and relaxed while his brother’s body shivered and his hips rotated slowly.

“M-Micky?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t go.”

“Go where?”

“I don’t know, just don’t go.”

Micky didn’t reply, but kissed his brother instead, hand tangling in his hair. Ricky moaned and sped up, shifting his knees for stronger thrusts. Micky needed to stroke his cock. He pushed at Ricky’s shoulders, and with a whine, Ricky slipped out of him. Micky tucked his legs against his chest and rolled over. He kneeled, head lowered to the bed, and curled his hand around his erection.

Ricky massaged his ass for a moment and then pushed in close. He held his erection down, swiped it over Micky’s cleft for long enough that Micky had to beg. Again.

“Oh, god, Ricky, fuck me, just fuck me. Come on. Inside me.”

Ricky shivered and pressed into him again all the way. They both moaned and Ricky stopped for a moment, getting used to the new position. Micky spread his legs and rolled his hips down and back.

Ricky gasped and slapped his hip. “Fuck, don’t do that. You want me to come again?”

“Sure, and then fingerfuck me and suck me off.”

“Oh fucking hell,” Ricky muttered and started thrusting, hard and fast. Steady enough for Micky, and he stroked himself in time to his brother’s movements.

“Mm, Ricky, more, more.”

Ricky tried to speed up, fingers gripping his hips. Micky’s eyes shut tightly and his body met each one of his brother’s thrusts. His hand sped up on his cock, and his orgasm twisted through him. Ricky whimpered, low and apologetic.

“Don’t stop, god, Ricky, come inside me but don’t stop.”

Ricky gasped, body jerking, losing its rhythm, but he didn’t stop, thrusts going erratic and snapping forward. Micky didn’t care; he was so close that if Ricky did stop, he’d still bring himself off. Ricky’s hands ran up his back and his thrusts started to slow, dragging out of him before forcing himself back inside.

“God, bro,” Ricky moaned. “Fuck, that … fuck.”

Micky nodded. He pushed himself up and back, and Ricky’s breath left him, but he went with the movement, and both of them ended up kneeling, back to chest and Micky’s hand still on his cock. Ricky sighed into his neck and kissed him, hands running up his chest to his nipples. Micky moaned, rolling his hips, his brother’s cock pushing into him with a dirty squelch. Pleasure twisted down with each one of Ricky’s touches. His hand faltered and he groaned at the tightening of his stomach and the tightening of his body around Ricky’s dick. Micky turned his head and their lips met and Micky bit down on Ricky’s lower lip and they moaned into the kiss while Micky shot his orgasm across the bed.

They sagged together, mouths still joined. Ricky carefully lowered him to the bed. His hips rolled, and then he pulled away. Micky sighed when their skin parted and smiled when Ricky curled up against his side.

“All done?” Micky asked and pressed back against Ricky’s erection.

“Let you recover first,” Ricky said and kissed his neck.

Micky chuckled. “I’m not that old. Give me five minutes.”

Ricky hummed in agreement and Micky shut his eyes.

“Bro?” Ricky said after a long silence full of their shaky breathing.

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

Micky smiled and pressed a kiss to Ricky’s arm. “I love you, too, Ricky.”

Ricky sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Things are just … they’re going to be different.”

Micky turned around in his arms and cupped his face. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips and said, “Just because we have a little bit of money now doesn’t change that we’re a family. We’ll always be together, okay? And if Mom wants to flit off to some foreign country for a little while, then good for her, but that doesn’t mean we have to leave each other. I won’t leave you. I won’t leave us or leave mom or … anything. I’ll always be here for you.”

Ricky put his arms around Micky’s neck and hugged him tightly. It was a pretty strong reminder that his brother was only seventeen. Still a kid. Still insecure and in need of love. Micky returned the embrace, and they relaxed in each other’s arms.

“This was pretty stupid,” Ricky said suddenly.

Micky barked out a harsh laugh. He ran his hands over Ricky’s cheek and kissed him. “Very, very, colossally stupid. Ready to do it again?”

Ricky opened his mouth and then shut it and nodded. “But I get to suck your cock this time.”


	6. Epilogue: Lucky

Sand cascaded over him in a hot wave, and Micky sputtered it out of his mouth, glaring up into the sun.  
  
“You look good with a tan, bro.”  
  
Micky froze for a moment, head jerking up and he ripped off his sunglasses. With a cry, he jumped up and tackled his brother to the beach. Ricky laughed and hugged him back, hands settling at his lower back, fingers clenching. Micky fought the urge to kiss him. Not yet.  
  
They’d moved to L.A. as soon as Oasis Cafe had sold. Their mom was better with money than either of them thought, and she soon had half of their reward money invested. She kept working in restaurant management, to supplement their income. Both he and Ricky had finished high school, and now Ricky was taking classes at USC. Micky still wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to college or not. Ricky liked it well enough.  
  
“Fuck, Ricky, what are you doing here?”  
  
Ricky propped up on his elbows, head tilted back in the warmth of the sun. “Taking a weekend off.”  
  
“It’s good to see you but …”  
  
“But?”  
  
“Yunho flew in to town yesterday to visit Mom.”  
  
Ricky smiled. “God, I know that, you pervert. Why do you think I came down to visit?”  
  
“Well,” Micky looked to the side and felt his cheeks flush from more than the California sun.  
  
“Too easy,” Ricky muttered and his fingers trailed over Micky’s for a moment. “Mom told me you were down here just before she told me that Yunho wants her all to himself and he rented a room for them at some beach hotel and the house is ours for the next two days.”  
  
Micky moaned and fell to his back. “Two days?”  
  
“If you’re lucky.”  
  
“I am very, very lucky.”  
  
“But …”  
  
“But?” Micky prompted.  
  
Ricky’s smile widened and he turned his head and looked behind him. Micky followed the prompting and his gaze landed on a tall, gangly boy who looked like he was trying not to rush at them.  
  
“Changmin!” Micky shouted and jumped off the sand and hurled himself across it.  
  
Changmin laughed and ran to him. They met and almost fell over, but Changmin’s arms wrapped around his waist and his legs widened and he held them up. Micky’s throat closed up, eyes shut tightly. It’d been a year since he’d last seen the kid. He’d gotten taller.  
  
Ricky joined their hug.  
  
“Surprise, homeboy.”  
  
Micky pulled his face away from Changmin’s neck and looked at Ricky in question.  
  
“He was on the flight with Yunho,” Ricky explained. “But Mom knew you had to work yesterday, and well, surprise.”  
  
“God,” Micky muttered. “Conniving twerps.”  
  
“I missed you, hyung.” Changmin said with a wide smile.  
  
“Missed you, too.”  
  
“Okay,” Ricky said. “Let’s go shower the sand off you and get you in bed. I still have visions of you begging for both of us at once, and it’s time to make dreams a reality.”

“Both of you?”

Ricky smirked. “You are indeed very, very lucky.”  
  
Changmin nodded. “Gonna fuck homeboy tonight.”  
  
“Oh, god, yes,” Micky moaned.


End file.
